


More than Human

by stardustedknuckles



Series: Part of You [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Eldritch Fuckery, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Kinktober 2020, October Prompt Challenge, Other, Tentacles, back on my eldritch bullshit, bodyweird, but there's no porn in this one, i have no idea how to tag this, it's more existential, light body horror maybe, not yet, the definition of beau has expanded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Beau returned from the Astral Sea with a hitchhiker, and it's fine, mostly. She's bigger sometimes, has a lot of extra, glowy limbs. Could probably tear a reality in half if she concentrated. But a visit to the Lavish Chateau draws it out of her and it's the first time she's not been able to stop it, and Beau is forced to confront what it might mean to be Other, what force might live under her skin now.In other words, I'm back on my eldritch bullshit, feel free to come along for some bodyweird and exploration of what it means to see someone regardless of the shape they're in.Day 15 of Kinktober/Promptober/CRinktober: Dressed to the neins/Tentacles
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: Part of You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972810
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60





	More than Human

**Author's Note:**

> This is the setup for an AU, a prompt fill that grew and reminded me that I love this kind of stuff. Other fics in this universe will dig a little deeper into dynamics like Yasha as the protected for once, Beau dealing with what it means to no longer be an ordinary person in extraordinary circumstances, etc. And yes, obviously at some point there will be porn. But this is setup and I expect about three people to have any interest, and that's fine.

They haven't talked much about whatever this is.

Not the sex - they talk about that a lot, or the right amount, whatever - but this part of Beau that was not there before she found herself in the Astral Sea and was not there after, either, not at first, but appeared by degrees over days.

The Wildmother called it an abomination, but kindly because it was Caduceus telling her so.

Veth called it "fucking awesome, please don't eat us."

And that pretty much covers the scale of human emotion, so Beau supposes she's a point somewhere on that line and it varies according to the day.

Yasha? Yasha calls it Beau.

And that's…she's not sure there's room for a Beau on a line like this, she thinks maybe they've transcended the experience of a Beau. This is something else, something that's made its home inside her and she's herself, mostly, but sometimes she's also this.

She can kind of see a room from whatever angle she wants, though, and that's pretty sweet right now.

She's in her suit, the one Jester picked out for her those weeks ago, and in fact they've just come from another soiree from the hands - well, mouth - of Marion Lavorre herself. In fact that's why they're here, because now Beau doesn't have to be high on Wildmother magic juice to see the kinds of things she saw before. Now, it just sort of happens if she wants it to, or apparently when Marion sings.

Yasha, bless her, had not asked why they were running. Beau had grabbed her hand hard enough that it had been Yasha excusing them, Yasha pulling Beau along behind as whatever this thing is had been writhing to get out, to uncoil, to unbecome.

It's the first time the symbiont has seemed to have its own will, and she'll deal with that later. Right now she is the point that shouldn't exist, the point between the flesh that is Beau and the thing that is outside of language she could translate. She can hear it, she can think it, but the language itself is a slice of time that doesn't exist/never existed/could exist and was apparently never meant for such basic things as mouths or brains or coherent thoughts. It's probably the sound of the place where creation and destruction meet.

Beau.

And where there is a Beau, it is right that there is also a Yasha, and so she is here too. She's on her knees, looking at Beau like it - like she, like they - are the face of her god. Her lip is bleeding from where Beau had exploded a little before she could fully get clear. She doesn't look like she minds.

Beau looks at herself - itself, themself - backlit as they are by the shapes of light pulsing and undulating from behind her, in her, through her. There's a human silhouette she recognizes, a nice suit. A rough approximation of limbs that cast the right number of shadows, three glowing spots where the eyes go.

It's three, right?

The part of Beau that recalls what a human brain is and its limitations stirs to life, and with it comes the fear -

For a dizzying moment of eternity, she's got two viewpoints. They see themself double over, the light of them whirl outward and contract. Yasha's reaching for them, and in the other point of view Beau can see the steadiness in her gaze just a few feet before her. There's an eternity within an eternity in those mismatched eyes, and there's something more coming from Yasha's left eye, but Beau can't hold on. She's…becoming. Re-becoming?

The room is gone, or rather it's coming in through human eyes from the approximate spot they're located on the silhouette she had seen. But its not a silhouette - she remembers it's her body just in time for it to collapse under her. Yasha is there already and when Beau grasps at her arm she forgets to make sure it's a hand made of flesh that grabs her and holds on, but it's okay, it's okay. There are fingers, fingernails, she's not breaking Yasha. She is Beau the human, Beau the limited, Beau the body once more - and she is trembling.

She blinks hard - two eyes, two eyes, how did she forget - and there on the floor in Yasha's arms she spends several moments filling herself back in, pulling together what it is to be human, to be understood in only three dimensions, to be understood in relation to another. Connections. Not telepathy, but something subtler in its extrasensory existence. Vibes, she thinks, and she's laughing then even as the fear ebbs with quiet sobs in its wake.

"I forgot," she manages to say with her mouth, her throat, and it almost doesn't feel so strange to manipulate flesh or feel it in her. "I forgot what it was to be-" she chokes "-human."

"And then you remembered," Yasha says firmly, and the weight of the noise on Beau's ears feels for a moment as tangible as Yasha's hands on her shoulders. "You found your way back."

"Yeah." She did, she made it back, everything here with Yasha in this room is her and it's not her. She is the flesh, the creature called Beau. The other things - the walls, the dresser, the bed, they are not her, and she dismisses them from her consciousness and slams the door.

And that does it. The last of the strange feeling is gone, and she is human. Has only ever been human. Has only ever used her mouth to speak languages that rely on sounds. Her ribs expand, contract. Her eyes are so fragile in their sockets, but this too passes.

"What if I don't one day?" The sensation of flesh on flesh has dissipated; it's just her voice, her ears picking up sounds the way they're meant to. "What if one day, that's…that's me and there's nothing else?"

They haven't talked about this much. Beau's been afraid, when she's able. She's never had to confront like this what goes into being Beau. A human. Yasha's human, at that.

"Look at me." Yasha's voice is kind but firm, and Beau lifts her head slowly. Yasha's eyes are on the same planes as one another - when were they not? - and they are unreadable at first, but she's smiling a little. That feels safe, so Beau looks a little harder.

She spends a few hesitant moments searching for hate, disappointment, or fear and it's only when she comes up empty that she's able to look and see what is there instead.

"Oh."

"Oh," Yasha agrees. She wipes her lip with the back of her hand, glances approvingly at the blood. It's not at all the correct response to whatever's going on, but it calms Beau in a way she hadn't expected to be possible.

"I could have killed you," Beau says, remembering. Her voice shakes. "With just a thought. And I wouldn't have known if…if it was even me who did it."

"Mmmm," says Yasha. Her fingers are cool on Beau's cheek as she pulls her head to her collarbone, rests her chin on Beau's damp hair. The hand on her face slides gently over and down to rest over the scar on Beau's chest. "And what did that feel like?"

Beau inhales sharply, freezes for a moment. "I…" Her mind whirls. It feels possible that if she opened the right door, the she would find memories that aren't hers.

"Don't get lost," Yasha reminds her quietly.

Beau closes her eyes, reaches to take Yasha's hand in hers. Exhales, clears her mind. "It was…" She reaches hesitantly for the memory \- her memory - for the thread of her that had still been attached and awake and somewhat in control. She remembers the power, the call at the back of her mind to use it just because it was there. "Part of me…part of it? Both?" Too much to wrangle right now, so she pushes it aside and forges ahead. "Something in me wanted to do it just, like. You know when you stand at the edge of a cliff and you're fighting a part of you that wants to jump even though that part really isn't there?"

Yasha inhales slowly. Her arms are tight around Beau; she's not sure she could actually break free if Yasha didn't want her to. And that's comforting, more than she can say.

"I'm not afraid," Yasha says. "Not when it's you."

Beau remembers the look on her face, something akin to awe. She remembers how it felt to see Yasha walking towards her, sword dragging across the stone. She remembers the part of her that saw death and saw Yasha and accepted them as the same for that one moment.

She also remembers the faintest, most distant voice in her mind: I've had this fantasy. Her mouth quirks a little. "You're horny."

"Yes." Yasha's smiling but hesitant. "Is that okay?"

Beau considers, because it feels like the kind of answer that necessitates a thorough once-over. Though her trembling has faded, she's still not quite in the right space to reciprocate. But the information has been carefully filed away for later. They will talk about this, find the differences and name them together.

She curls into Yasha. "I'm not sure any of it's okay," she whispers. The fear is there again, the human fear, the kind that presses against ribs and compresses lungs, but it's only the fear. She's not hyper aware of her organs, only cognizant of them. There's no stirring of the other consciousness.

Yasha senses the fear, holds her closer. It's uncomfortable, being squeezed like this, and the discomfort drives it far enough away for Beau to add, "I like horny better than disgust, as reactions go."

"Beau." Yasha's hand on her chest moves to press her cheek, but she doesn't make Beau look at her. "There is nothing about you that could disgust me."

Part of Beau wants to protest, to insist that whatever this is, it's not her, but she believes it less every day and she is exhausted, so she just makes a sound of acknowledgment and buries her face in the top of Yasha's dress, breathing her in. It feels safe to relax here.

She's starting to drift when Yasha speaks up again. "For what it's worth," she offers, "I preferred that too."

Beau smiles.

Time passes, or it doesn't, and when Beau is aware of things again, Yasha is stroking her hair and singing. Singing, except it's talking and Beau can understand her. She chooses not to, saves it for later to turn over. Right now the ability to know even languages as simple as these feels too much, too close to the Other. The comfort of not knowing, of not processing, is as comforting as the sounds themselves.

The door opens suddenly, and Yasha's voice halts. Her arms around Beau tighten as she whips around, and Beau barely has time for one giddy thought at how comfortingly ridiculous it is for Yasha to guard her before a familiar voice says, "It's alright. Let me look at her." Yasha hesitates, then relaxes a little so that strong, smooth hands can gently grasp the sides of Beau's face. She rolls blank, tired eyes up to find Marion Lavorre staring down at her, and there's something in her irises that calls to her.

Beau's mind seems to flash, echoing something deep in those depths, and then there's an overpowering sensation of weight that anchors her in her skin. She had hauled herself back here, yes, but she had been a fool to think she could stop it happening again.

Now, she finds, there's a tether.

The drift stops abruptly. The world snaps into focus. Beau blinks hard and sits up, keeping her hand in Yasha's. There's an imprint in her mind, a beacon that wasn't there before, and her thoughts probe at it like a tongue pressed to a regrown tooth.

Marion smiles broadly at her, and it's so kind and so proud that Beau feels like crying again. "You found your own way back," Marion says. "That's incredible." Her thumb brushes across Beau's brow, and it makes her feel like a little kid in a surprisingly comforting way. "Next time it won't be so hard." Marion kneels so she can look her over. "I'm so sorry, dear," she murmurs. "I had no idea there was such a powerful visitor here, let alone in one of you."

Beau's feeling right, feeling normal, but she can't find words yet. It's alright, Yasha is there to take over. "You've seen this before?"

Marion pushes soft fingers through Beau's sweaty hair and smiles at the both of them. "Let's talk."


End file.
